


Planes, Submarines and Snowmobiles: a case study in international policing

by Deputychairman



Category: due South
Genre: First Time, Hotel Sex, M/M, Post-Canon, Sexual Tension, and a plausible cover, because that is the whole point of conferences, to have sex in it, to provide people with a hotel room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deputychairman/pseuds/Deputychairman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later Fraser asked, “Do they need to know the coordinates where we landed in Canada?”</p><p>Ray yawned and pretended to think about this. “Nah. I think ‘frozen wasteland of death’ oughta do it.”</p><p>Fraser’s lips twitched. “There are a lot of Canadians at the conference, Ray. They might be interested.”</p><p>“If they’re so interested in coordinates they can go to a wilderness, uh, orientating conference or something. This one’s for international policing, you and me we policed internationally and the exact place we jumped out of a plane is not real important to how we did that.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> They make me go to conferences now, and the only thing that makes them bearable is thinking about what happens during conferences in fanfic. It is a noble and time-honoured trope: here is my contribution. It is inspired, as usual, by the detailed enthusiasm of people on Tumblr, and made better by Seascribe.

Ray wasn’t exactly the poster boy for conferences, what with how sitting still and listening to people tell him stuff that was supposed to be interesting but wasn’t were two of the things he enjoyed least. So it didn’t say much for the calibre of the rest of the Chicago police department that they’d picked Ray to go four times already.

Way back when, Stella used to be impressed that he got asked. She’d help him pick what to wear, and he had to hand it to her on that. She never tried to dress him up like a wannabe executive - she could always find something that was _him_ , just a bit smarter him.

And then they were never as bad as he’d been expecting. It wasn’t like school - you could sit in the back and nobody cared if you just couldn’t take it any more and had to go out. Some of it was pretty interesting. The other cops there were pretty cool. Those beer gut guys who were just marking time til retirement, arresting the same easy targets and talking shit, they didn’t go to conferences. So yeah, he’d never choose to spend his free time with a hotel full of cops, but there were some ok people there who cared about what they were doing, and you could learn stuff without getting it from a book.

All four times the hotels had been really nice, nicer than anywhere Ray was ever going to stay on his own dime. You got given free dinners and free drinks and being cops, people really went to town on that. Everyone was suddenly everyone’s best buddy, promising to stay in touch after. There were even hookups: Ray bumped into Joanne Willis coming out of Tom Waroklov’s room one morning and that elevator ride easily made the top ten most awkward moments in his life.

Ray was married the first three conferences so he wasn’t doing any hooking up, never mind the “what happens at the conference, stays at the conference” atmosphere. He loved Stella, and he wasn’t that kind of guy. Even if your wife never found out, that didn’t make it ok.

The fourth time, he was separated with divorce papers waiting to be signed, and all he wanted was his wife back. He got talking to a guy from Seattle whose ex had met somebody new and wouldn’t even take his calls any more, and they consoled each other over a bottle of whisky and a bowl of peanuts on the bar. They consoled each other all the way back to Ray’s room where Ray let the guy from Seattle fuck him, and he came so hard he saw stars.

He hoped nobody saw the guy from Seattle leaving his room, but he wasn’t going to get up and stick his head out in the corridor to make sure.

After that he started working undercover, so he stopped going to conferences anyway. 

 

* * *

 

 

He never figured on getting asked to speak at one. Even when the undercover was all over, and he was back in Chicago on his own again, working really hard to not think about Fraser’s face when they said goodbye at the airport and mostly managing it.

But they invited Fraser to speak at ‘the world’s most prestigious law enforcement event’, apparently. Ray had never heard of it, but it wasn’t like he took a special interest in law enforcement conferences so that didn’t mean anything. Getting invited to speak made it even more prestigious, they said. Ray didn’t know much about that either, and he didn’t want to. Not thinking about how Fraser had looked at him, those last few days up in Canada, was only going to be harder if he got involved in all this bullshit. Fraser was supposed to speak about the submarine and Muldoon and all the rest of it, and being Fraser, he didn’t want to just stand up and let everyone tell him how great he’d done. He wanted Ray, of all people, to speak with him.

Fraser called. Fraser wrote him. The Ice Queen wrote to Welsh. Welsh shoved the letter at him and said, “Think about it, Detective.”

Ray scowled and dumped the letter in his in-tray which he never looked at, it was a filing system that was working for him so far.

 

The conference organisers wrote to the Chicago Police Department. The Captain got interested, and this time Welsh bent his ear about it. He even closed the door to his office.

That was fine, Ray could handle that, give back as good as he got. He was ready.

“Kowalski,” Welsh said. He had the organisers’ letter in his hand: Ray recognised the logo. But his voice was all wrong for what Ray was expecting to hear. “Did something happen in Canada that I don’t need to know about but will affect what I tell the captain about this?”

The way Ray couldn’t answer was its own answer. He knew that, and he still couldn’t answer.

Welsh sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“Talk to Fraser, and let me know tomorrow,” he said.

Ray nodded, and fled.

 

***

 

Of course he had Fraser’s number. He’d never called him, but he knew exactly what scrap of paper had the phone number on it and where it was.

He dialled three times before he actually let it ring.

 

The pleasure of hearing Fraser’s voice was almost cancelled out by what he was asking.

 

“You were my partner, Ray. We worked together, so yes, naturally I was hoping you’d present the paper with me.”

“You want me to get up on stage and speak in front of hundreds of people?”

Fraser paused, maybe trying to think of another way to put it that wouldn’t sound so bad.

“Well, it would only be for fifteen minutes or so, but yes, I think there would be a stage and some kind of audience involved,” he conceded.

“Fraser,” Ray told him firmly, “I would do almost anything you asked me, which you probably know, but this I can’t do. You know I’m not a, a - ” the word he wanted deserted him, as if to prove his point.

“You’re not an orator,” Fraser supplied, a sigh in his voice.

“A what?”

“A public speaker. A maker of speeches.”

“No. I am not,” Ray agreed.

“That’s one of your virtues, in fact,” Fraser added. Before Ray had time to process _that_ , he continued: “So perhaps you could be my co-author instead? For the written paper, if not the presentation? I really would feel fraudulent putting it forward just under my name when you did half the work...”

“Co-author?”

“Yes. I mean, I could do the actual typing part, of course, but I’d be very grateful if you’d help me with the content. If you want.”

Fraser sounded like _he_ wanted, and it wasn’t that often that Fraser actually came out and asked for something.

Ray took a deep breath. “Ok then. Yeah. I can be your co-author,” he said.

 

It wasn’t quite partners, but it sounded good all the same.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The International Policing Conference was in a Four Seasons in Toronto, which meant Fraser had further to travel to get there than Ray did. You had to wonder who was picking up the tab, because the place was way fancier than the hotels Ray had been to before, and they’d already been pretty fancy. He figured, stick the word ‘international’ on the front of anything and all of a sudden it goes up in the world. Which had not been his lived experience working with Fraser – there had been sleeping on the floor and bad neighbourhoods and bad people. But then, yeah, there had been Fraser, so maybe.

He didn’t expect to know anybody else, but there was Joanne Willis in the lobby when he arrived.

They’d lost touch after he split up with Stella, but it wasn’t like Joanne was a friend of Stella’s or anything, and she came right up to shake hands when she caught sight of him.

 

“Hey, Kowalski. I saw your name in the programme, you’re doing pretty good these days, huh?” she said. Which just went to show they really _had_ lost touch.

“I’m not speaking or anything,” he explained. “It’s my partner, on account of he was Canadian…”

“Well, it was a big case and your name’s still there in print, I say take some credit for it.” Joanne nodded firmly at him and Ray nodded back. This has been Fraser’s case, start to finish, and you could print Ray’s name all you wanted but that wouldn’t change anything.

 

 

There was no sign of Fraser among the crowd in the lobby, so Ray made his way past plush sofas and enormous flowers to the reception desk.

“Hey, you got a Benton Fraser staying here? He’s Canadian, has he checked in yet?” Ray asked the improbably young and beautiful desk clerk.

“I’ll have a look for you, Mr. Kowalski!”

Ray couldn’t tell if she was so happy to help because Fraser had checked in and she’d seen him, or if it was just a Canadian thing, to really enjoy helping people. She tapped at the computer and gave Ray a beaming smile.

“Yes, Mr Fraser arrived this morning,” she told him. “Would you like me to call his room for you?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Uh, sure, yeah,” he muttered.

She let it ring for a while, but before she had time to tell him sorry, there’s no answer, as if by magic Fraser was just _there_ at his side, exclaiming, “Ray!” and suddenly it hit him how long it had been since he last saw Fraser.

 

Six months of humping the job without a decent partner, six months without a best friend, six months with no one he actually wanted to spend any time with except a sort of fantasy version of Fraser in his head. A fantasy who on top being his partner and best friend, also happened to be the hottest guy Ray had ever met. That part was real enough – the fantasy part was where this guy, who could have his pick of pretty much any woman in the world, was only not picking one because he secretly swung both ways and wanted to go to bed with Ray.

 

He wasn’t too proud of that fantasy, and mostly he tried not to think about it. Just sometimes at night, when his own right hand just wasn’t getting the job done, an image of Fraser wriggling out of his clothes in his sleeping bag or pottering unshaved around his dad’s cabin would just appear in his head. That Fraser would smile at him just like the real one, and stand close just like the real one, and reach out and pull him close and touch him, like the real one never would. When that Fraser appeared in his head it was like _fireworks_ going off.

But he’d take the reality of Fraser right here in front of him over a figment of his imagination, any day. Even if it was only reality for a the three days the conference lasted.

 

Fraser was giving him almost the same look he’d given the ice field and the real Ray Vecchio - like he’d broken his face. And before either of them had time to think about it, Fraser was hugging him and Ray was hugging back.

It wasn’t just a polite hug: Fraser squeezed him hard, all the solid strength of his body pressed up against Ray. Only for a second, and then they were slapping each other on the back and letting go like you were supposed to.

They were both speaking at once.

“When did you get here?”

“I was just calling you – uh, just now, I - ”

“It’s wonderful to see you - ”

“Wow, I missed you – you look good, the north’s good for you, huh?”

Of course Fraser looked good. That was like the Pope being a Catholic – the only surprise was that he was at a policing conference and he wasn’t wearing the red serge.

“You’re wearing normal clothes,” Ray added stupidly.

 

Then he realised nobody was in uniform: _all_ the Canadians looked like normal people. Normal people who spent more time in the woods than Ray and wore more plaid, but still. Normal people.

“Yes, I’ve brought a suit for the presentation, but the RCMP was quite clear that we shouldn’t be in uniform.”

“You got a suit?”

“Of course I’ve got a suit, Ray.”

He felt stupid being so surprised by that. Every guy had a suit. But the Fraser in his head never wore one.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After the welcome dinner, Fraser said no to a drink and for a second Ray was afraid he was going to say he needed an early night and leave Ray in a room full of high flyers and Canadians.

Instead Fraser said, “But I was hoping to go over the presentation with you, if you’re not too tired,” raising his voice to make himself heard over the noise of conversation.

Ray grinned at him in relief. “I’m good, I’m not too tired. Lay it on me.”

 

They both scanned the bar for a free table, but every space seemed to be taken up with cops and Mounties and Policia Federal, drinking and laughing and networking. At least, Ray was guessing this was _networking_. He didn’t swing that way himself.

He and Fraser looked at each other for a second.

“Your room’s tidier, right? Let’s go look at it in your room,” Ray said.

Fraser hesitated just long enough for Ray to worry about that too, that maybe the easy intimacy of sharing a tent and Fraser sleeping on his couch was all behind them now.

Then he smiled and said, “That’s an excellent idea, Ray. After you.”

 

***

 

Housekeeping had already turned down the room for the night: the lamp was lit and the curtains were drawn. For an anonymous hotel room that looked exactly the same as all the other hotel rooms there was almost something cosy about it.

Maybe it was Fraser in his sock feet and shirtsleeves. Ray’s last week in Canada, the last time he saw Fraser, they’d slouched around Fraser’s cabin watching it rain. Even Fraser had slouched. The rain had brought a weird electric tension to the air. It seemed to get in the way of everything they said to each other. They didn’t fight, but Ray’d gone home with the feeling there was a whole other conversation going on that he just couldn’t quite hear over the sound of the rain.

Tonight wasn’t like that. Tonight they were completely in the groove, like they’d picked up exactly where they’d left off, and nothing was weird at all.

Fraser was in the armchair, notes on his knees and sock feet up on the bed, so Ray followed his lead and got comfortable. He could have sat at the desk, but it wasn’t a sitting-at-a-desk kind of atmosphere, so Ray toed off his shoes and flopped down on the hotel bed next to Fraser’s feet.

“Hey, you gonna eat this?”

He held out the chocolate from the pillow.

“No, Ray, be my guest.”

Ray ate the chocolate. He lay on Fraser’s bed and listened to Fraser scribble in the margin of his presentation. Sometimes he looked up and asked questions like, “Where did we arrest Big Toe Blake again?” and Ray frowned and said, “You sure they want that much detail, Frase?”

Fraser sucked on the end of his pen, frowning.

“Hm. No, perhaps you’re right.” There was a scratching sound as he crossed something out, then he smiled. “You’re better at this than you give yourself credit for, Ray - I am aware of my tendency towards the long-winded when I’m put on the spot.”

Ray turned his head on the pillow to look up at him.

“I thought you did that on purpose.”

“Not always, no.”

Ray patted Fraser’s foot comfortingly.

“Hey, well. Glad I can help, buddy.”

 

Later Fraser asked, “Do they need to know the coordinates where we landed in Canada?”

Ray yawned and pretended to think about this. “Nah. I think ‘frozen wasteland of death’ oughta do it.”

Fraser’s lips twitched. “There are a lot of Canadians at the conference, Ray. They might be interested.”

“If they’re so interested in coordinates they can go to a wilderness, uh, orientating conference or something. This one’s for international policing, you and me we policed internationally and the exact place we jumped out of a plane is not real important to how we did that.”

“No, perhaps you’re right,” Fraser agreed.

“You’ve already got in there how we heroically climbed a mountain and slid down the other side, that’s the part that counts.”

“I calculated that we walked nearly 80 miles, actually.”

Some of Ray’s memories of that part of the trip were kinda hazy, but he was in no doubt about the important thing.

“Nah, _you_ walked 80 miles and carried me maybe half of that, so that actually makes more like, uh, 200 miles, at least.”

Fraser looked puzzled.

“Because the miles you walk when you are carrying someone else count for more. Specially if that includes climbing up a mountain,” Ray explained.

Fraser put his head on one side to think about that. “That’s - actually very sound logic, Ray.”

 

Later Fraser stretched his legs out so his feet were almost touching Ray’s arm. Ray shifted just a little bit to tuck Fraser’s toes in under his elbow to rest against his ribs, and Fraser didn’t move away.

Man, but he’d missed this. Their little bubble, just him and Fraser.

 

At some point, lulled by familiar questions and the rustling of papers, he fell asleep on Fraser’s bed.

 

 

***

 

Ray woke up to Fraser leaning over him. For a second he had no idea where he was, only that he was warm and comfortable and Fraser was gazing down at him in soft light, his eyes fond.

Then it all came back: they were at a conference, in a hotel, and all this was temporary.

“Ray. Ray. Ray - ” Fraser was saying. The bed dipped under Fraser’s weight and his hand was warm on Ray’s chest.

“Wha - yeah?” Ray mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“You can sleep here if you want, but you’re still wearing your suit."

“Mm,” Ray agreed. He blinked up and saw that Fraser was in his undershirt and sweats, ready for bed.

“Don’t you have to wear it in the morning, Ray? I think it’ll show, if you sleep in it.”

“Oh. Yeah.” It was like on the quest, with Fraser telling him to change his clothes to go to sleep, however tired he was, to put on something dry. That was really important. Fraser was always right about this sort of stuff, and any minute now Ray was going to sit up and do what Fraser was telling him. But just for a few more seconds, he was going to lie here on Fraser’s bed with Fraser’s hand on him and Fraser’s thigh pressed up against his.

Ray smiled up at him, and Fraser smiled back.

“What is it?” he asked, like he actually thought Ray’s half-asleep brain had something interesting for him.

“Nothing. Just reminded me of when we were on the ice, you know? The tent and dry clothes at night and everything.”

Fraser’s smile got wider.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

For a long moment neither of them moved. Ray never wanted to move again: he just wanted Fraser to go on sitting there and to let him lie here on top of the covers in his hotel room bed, just like this. He could hear Fraser breathing, and the lamplight on his bare arms made his skin look golden even though Ray knew he was actually really, really pale.

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to reach up and run his hand up Fraser’s arm, just to know what that skin felt like. Fraser’s eyes fell closed.

“Ray…” Fraser said, and there was a crack in his voice.

And suddenly Ray realised what he was doing. This wasn’t one of those lonely dreams with Fraser’s face, it was _Fraser_ , and he probably didn’t want Ray feeling up his muscles like he was about to ask him if he’d been working out.

He took his hand off Fraser’s arm and sat up. Fraser moved back to give him room.

“I better, uh -” Ray began, swinging his feet off Fraser’s bed so they were sitting side by side for a second, and then he dragged himself to his feet. “- go sleep in my own room, I guess.”

“Well. Ok. So I’ll see you tomorrow - ” and Fraser was standing up too, all back on track. Nothing was weird here, see?  “Maybe for breakfast?”

“Uh,” Ray scrubbed a hand across his face. “Sure, yeah, if I wake up.”

“I can call your room, if you like. If you want to wake up for breakfast. Say around eight?”

Eight sounded way too early for a day when they didn’t actually have to do anything.

“Yeah, that’d be great, eight’s good,” he said at once. _Maybe a bit too keen there, Ray._

But Fraser looked really happy Ray’d agreed to have breakfast with him, so maybe not. “Right then. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah. Breakfast date. Ok,” Ray said stupidly.

Fraser walked him right to the door, like he wasn’t just going down the corridor for seven hours.

“Good night, Ray,” he said.

“Yeah. Night, Frase. See you at eight.” Ray said. “And if I don’t answer the door, just knock louder, ok? Don’t go down without me.”

“No, I won’t,” Fraser promised.

“Ok then.”

“Ok. Well.”

“Yeah, uh, sleep well.”

 

He almost wanted to hug Fraser or something, shake his hand, kiss him on the cheek - something to say good night that wasn’t the same words over again. He hesitated in the doorway, and like he read Ray’s mind, Fraser reached out and gripped his shoulders, like a hug at a distance. Ray’s hands came out without thinking to grip Fraser in turn around the ribs. It was only for a second, but it was exactly what he’d wanted.

“Sleep well, Ray.”

 

Ray looked back over his shoulder as he headed down the soft carpet of the hallway, and Fraser was still standing in the doorway, watching him go.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a break with established tradition, I'm posting a WIP. It is 80% written, this is my PUBLIC COMMITMENT to finish it.


	2. Chapter 2

He did wake up in time and heard Fraser’s knock at the door just as he was about to fix his hair.

Ray flung the door open, afraid Fraser would leave if he took too long. But Fraser was right there, looking good and unfamiliar in a dark suit, hair still wet from the shower.

“Morning, Ray.”

“Hey, Frase, come in, just gimme one minute, ok?”

Fraser followed him in obediently. His gaze flicked over at Ray’s unmade bed then he cleared his throat and came to stand in the bathroom door, watching him spike up his hair in the mirror. Ray grinned at his reflection and saw Fraser grin back. He didn’t even know what he was smiling about.

“Ok?” he asked when he was done.

Fraser stepped forward to see him better, and their eyes met in the mirror again. Then he reached out and Ray felt his fingers in his hair just for second, smoothing it down at the nape of his neck.

“There,” Fraser said. “You look great, Ray.”

 

***

 

The first day was pretty interesting. It helped to have Fraser sitting next to him, whispering comments during the presentations. Fraser had always made it sound like the Canadians didn’t think too much of him, but it looked like the submarine thing had changed that: a hell of a lot of people wanted to introduce themselves during the coffee break, and not just because of how good he looked in a suit.

Fraser was looking a little glassy-eyed by the time they were done with the dinner, like even he was running low on conversation. His answers were getting shorter and shorter, and by 9 o’clock he was skirting snippy.

Finally he turned to Ray, scanning the room over his shoulder for the next networking attack, and said:

“I did want to go over the presentation one more time with you, if you don’t mind,” and Ray recognised it for the plea that it was.

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed getting to his feet, as ready as Fraser was to get away from the backslapping and the small talk. “Your room again?”

Fraser licked his lips and didn’t move for a second. If it was anyone else, Ray might have made something of the way Fraser’s gaze seemed to linger around Ray’s belt buckle before he stood up too. But it was _Fraser_ , and if there was something Fraser wanted to see, he’d had two months in a tent to say something, hadn’t he?

 

***

 

Fraser went straight to the nightstand, shoved something into the drawer before Ray could see what it was. Anyone else Ray would have assumed it was a porno mag, but with Fraser it was anyone’s guess. Could be anything _except_ a porno mag.

“I just wanted to practice the part I changed last night, if you don’t mind listening,” Fraser was saying, leafing through a pile of notes. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable...” he gestured to the bed.

Maybe it was a bad idea, after the weird moment last night. But Fraser didn’t seem to think anything was weird, Fraser was telling him to get comfortable on his bed and it would just be making a big deal out of nothing to refuse.

Ray shrugged his suit jacket off and draped it over the desk chair, and flopped down on the bed just like the night before. He folded his hands over his chest like Fraser always did, and then he realised he still had his shoes on, so he kicked them off as Fraser cleared his throat and started to read him the presentation.

And it wasn’t that he wasn’t interested, or that Fraser didn’t tell it well, because he did. Fraser could tell a good story and he had a really nice voice, so nice that Ray found himself listening more to the sound than the words. When he just let it roll over him, Fraser’s voice wasn’t nearly as formal as his vocabulary made you think it was. It was deep and relaxed and there was kind of a twang to it that you wouldn’t expect when you saw him in uniform. And if he was really honest with himself – which this was not a good time to start being honest, not a good time _at all_ – Fraser’s voice was kind of turning him on. Some co-author he was – someone was gonna ask him a question, and all he’d be able to say was _I dunno, but Fraser’s voice makes me hot for him._

 

It was just as well Fraser kept stopping and asking him questions. Nit-picking questions about things that really didn’t _matter_.

Things like:

“Ray, did we _leap_ or did we _jump?”_

“Uh, what’s the difference?”

 _“Leaping_ suggests more of an upward motion, I think. Whereas _jumping_ , in this case, sounds more like jumping _off,_ wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah. Uh. Sure,” Ray agreed. He got the feeling Fraser wasn’t really asking what he seemed to be asking, but he didn’t know what the real question was.

 

A minute later Fraser said, “When I came back with Muldoon, how would you describe him?” and that was almost a good question, just because Fraser used the guy’s name. The first few times they’d talked about this paper, there had been a whole lot of _hims_ and _hes_ until Ray almost lost track of who they were talking about. “He wasn’t angry, as such – would you say he was _sullen?_ Resentful?”

“Um,” Ray began.

“Or perhaps it isn’t relevant. The focus is supposed to be on the international dimension of the case, isn’t it, so perhaps - ” he broke off.

Ray leaned up on his elbows to see him better, and suddenly a couple of things fell into place.

“Frase, are you _nervous_ about this?” he asked.

“Yes, Ray,” Fraser said bluntly, like it was obvious.

“Really? I didn’t think you got, uh - nervous. Me, I get nervous, but you - ” The closest Ray’d seen was maybe _uncomfortable_ if someone really came on strong, but that wasn’t the same thing at all.

“Oh, well, I only have to speak about the most emotionally significant case of my working life in front of the people who control my entire career and future, what on earth do I have to be nervous about?”

Ray blinked at him.

“Uh. Yeah. Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, I should have thought - ”

“No, it’s fine. I shouldn’t - ”

“You wanna – you wanna talk about it?”

“Oh God no,” Fraser said with some force. “I really don’t. Quite the opposite. You’re already helping me take my mind off it just by being here.”

“I am?”

“Yes, Ray.” Fraser sounded so sure it made something ache inside him.

“Ok. Good,” he mumbled. “And I’ll be there at the front, if you need me for the questions, right?”

“Yes,” Fraser gave him a smile of pure gratitude. Ray reached out to give his knee a reassuring squeeze, and neither of them broke the eye contact until suddenly it was _weird_ again. Ray didn’t move his hand and Fraser didn’t move his leg and were stuck there, _looking_ at each other.

Fraser snapped out of it first. He coughed and turned back to his notes just as Ray took his hand away.

Ray heard him rustle pages purposefully for a second. “Ah, how about this part: _the question of jurisdiction arose -_ ”

But Ray cut him off.

“I dunno about exactly what words, Frase! You’re good at this sort of stuff, maybe you don’t need to write it all down, you know? Just, talk about it, like you always do. People like that.”

Fraser managed to quirk a smile at him.

“I’d rather have it written down first, even if I don’t end up saying exactly that.”

“Okay. Uh, well, uh – what was it again?”

Fraser leaned back in his chair and gave a dramatic sigh. “Oh God, Ray, if I’m even boring _you_ I may as well give up now -”

“No, no, sorry -” Ray sat up properly. “I’m not bored, I’m just not good at this. Lemme read it.”

Fraser slid over from the armchair to sit beside him on the bed, holding out his page of notes.

“You _are_ good at this, actually,” he said. “I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t value your opinion, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Fraser said firmly, and Ray almost melted right there. It was a good thing Fraser didn’t know what it did to Ray, when he said things like that, because if he knew then he might stop.

Ray started to read it, he did, but Fraser was so close Ray could feel his body heat. The words swam before his eyes.

He gave Fraser the page back.

“You read it again,” he said, and Fraser did. In that same deep, hypnotic voice as before.

There was a small silence when he finished.

Ray began, “Uh, I think... ”

Fraser licked his lips, and for a second Ray lost track of what he was going to say.

“Just, don’t read it out loud, I guess. Otherwise it’s gonna be the administration manual all over again, and...”

“Mm-hm,” Fraser agreed, and then he didn’t say anything else. The silence was deafening. There was no rain outside, just mounting tension and his own pulse thundering in his ears as Fraser looked down at him and he looked up at Fraser.

He couldn’t stand it, that look was gonna see right through him, that look was turning him on. He was right here in Fraser’s bed, and Fraser was looking at him. Guys couldn’t look at each other like that, unless -

 

Fraser put his notes down and turned towards him.

 

Ray knew what he was going to do. Ray was waiting for him to do it, like in dream logic where you know what’s going to happen and you don’t question how you know it. Everything was slow and inevitable as Fraser leaned in, and Ray tilted his head to let him. It started soft and gentle, the barest brush of their mouths together. It was hardly even a kiss – it was a _thing_ , a moment, there was still time for them both to pull back and act like nothing had happened. It was buddy breathing, his mouth slipped, he was drunk, _anything._

Which maybe would have been the sensible thing to do – Fraser lived in _Canada_ now, he was gone and there was only a whole lot of heartache down the road of kissing your best friend who lives in Canada. Someone who made good decisions would have leaned back again, picked up the notes, maybe wrapped a friendly arm round Fraser to show him everything was fine, turn this into a _friends_ thing.

 

Ray wasn’t going to do that.

He was going to leap in, crash and burn. He let his mouth open and felt Fraser push inside, past the point of plausible deniability.

Then Fraser moaned and really went for it, kissing him with hard, wrapping his arms round Ray to hold him closer as they made out.

Ray was off balance, and Fraser leaning over him and the bed behind him were suggesting a definite course of action. He wasn’t sure if he pulled Fraser down or if Fraser pushed him, but when Ray went to put his arms around Fraser he found himself flat on his back, Fraser on top of him, pressing him into the mattress.

Fraser was _heavy_ : he’d forgotten that, about guys, that feeling of being held down. It had always turned him on, but with Fraser it was somehow even more. Fraser hadn’t asked, Fraser wasn’t being courteous: Fraser was kissing him hot and dirty, one leg in between Ray’s, his buttoned-up self-restraint all gone. 

 

When Fraser pulled back with a question on his face, Ray grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him down again. He didn’t know what would happen if they stopped to talk about this, he just knew it was safer not to give Fraser a chance to reconsider.

It seemed like Fraser wasn’t all that determined to ask questions anyway. He let himself be pulled down, went one better by sliding a hand up Ray’s shirt and then a moment later gripping his erection through his dress pants. Ray broke the kiss to pant brokenly at the ceiling, trying to hold it together. Yeah it had been a long time since anybody touched him, but it wasn’t just the physical contact. It was _Fraser_ , Fraser who he’d imagined doing just this, Fraser who never wanted anybody, and it turned him on _so much_ he could hardly stand it.

 

Then Fraser was sitting up to unbutton Ray’s pants, and yes, yes that was what he wanted, no talking, they were just _doing_ this and damn the consequences. Ray lifted his hips to let Fraser tug his pants and shorts off, and in the same movement he was wriggling out of his shirt and flinging it away.

“Oh God, _Ray,_ ” Fraser breathed, apparently overcome by his nakedness, and all the hard weight of him, still fully dressed, came down on top of Ray.

“You too,” Ray whispered, but Fraser was moving down his body to lick at his nipples, making him squirm and pant.

“Take your clothes off - ” he managed a minute later when Fraser lifted his mouth, leaving Ray’s nipples tingling and sensitive. “Please, Frase…”

Fraser looked down at him, hot-eyed, and licked his lips.

“Ray, roll over for me,” he whispered. They were whispering everything, like they were both afraid to wake the other one up by talking too loud.

Rolling over could only mean one thing and for a second he hesitated. If he let Fraser do this, there’d be no more hiding. But he’d always found something irresistible about Fraser’s quiet instructions, his certainty that Ray would go along with anything he said. And what did he have to hide from Fraser anyway? Fraser already knew everything about him.

 

Ray turned over.

 

Fraser ran warm hands over down his back, kissing his neck, his shoulders until Ray was shivering. Then he was pushing Ray’s legs apart, murmuring, “Can you get up on your knees, Ray?” and Ray did it without even thinking, positioning himself with his head down, ass in the air.

It felt the best kind of slutty, where you know it’s a bad idea but it’s so hot you can’t help yourself.

He sort of knew what Fraser was going to do next, but he still took a sharp breath of surprise when he felt both Fraser’s hands spreading him and then the shocking heat of Fraser’s mouth licking at his cleft.

“No, Fraser! That’s -” he gasped, squirming at the intimacy of it.

“No?” Fraser asked, stopping. Ray could still feel his breath right there, warm where he’d just licked but not quite touching.

“Uh,” said Ray stupidly. His cock throbbed he was so turned on, and why had he just said no to Fraser? What had he said no to? “No what?”

“If you don’t want me to do that I won’t, of course,” he said softly. And no, of course he wouldn’t, but did Ray _really_ not want him to do that? It wasn’t like he was going to get another chance.

“Uh, no, yeah - yeah I do, if _you_ want, it’s just - ” he couldn’t believe Fraser wanted to, that Fraser knew about this. Maybe he didn’t, maybe it was all instinct, but either way what was Ray doing saying no? He didn’t mean no, he meant _yes, everything, I’m yours, whatever you want._

“Are you sure?” Fraser asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure, I, uh - _ohhhh_ \- ” Fraser licked him again, swirling his tongue right over Ray’s asshole, touching all the places he was most sensitive, and Ray forgot everything he was going to say. He couldn’t keep his hips still, he had to push back for more, but Fraser had him. Big hands firm on his ass, thumbs holding him open, and Ray could only rock an inch back and forth. So he groaned instead as Fraser really went to town on him, moving with him, tongue swirling, kissing him, licking him, light and soft round the outside then pressing almost inside his hole until Ray was almost sobbing with it, a desperate, panting mess only held up by Fraser’s grip and his own need for Fraser not to stop.

 

When he was wet and open as he was going get on spit alone, Fraser pulled back. Ray whined and tried to sit up too, seeking contact. But Fraser pressed gently down between his shoulder blades to keep him there, and then Ray felt his fingertips teasing in and out of his asshole like he couldn’t help himself.

“Stay like that, Ray. You look so…”

He could only imagine how he looked, right there how Fraser wanted him, braced and open for Fraser to do whatever he wanted to him. He would have been embarrassed if he hadn’t been so turned on, but Fraser’s hands on him drove every other thought out of his head.

There was cool air on his wet skin as Fraser moved away. There was a rustle of cloth and then the sound of Fraser’s zipper opening, shockingly loud somehow, like a declaration of intent.

Ray turned his head on the pillow to catch a glimpse of Fraser opening a tub of Vaseline. Then the bed dipped behind him again and Fraser’s hands were back on Ray’s ass.

His hard cock brushed against Ray's asscheek, but Fraser’s fingers weren’t pushing inside him: he was just rubbing his slick thumb over the _outside_ of Ray’s exposed hole, over and over again, driving him crazy, he couldn't stand it -

“C’mon Fraser, please - ” he begged, spreading his legs wider, willing his body to just open up already and trick Fraser’s fingers inside. “Can’t wait any more - ”

“Yes you can Ray, I know you can, you’re being so patient - ” Fraser murmured, implacable, and finally slid a finger into him.

“Yesyesyes, oh, _thank you_ ,” Ray almost sobbed. He’d meant it to sound sarcastic, he was sure he had, but the voice that came out was raw and desperate and completely sincere.

 

Fraser had strong, capable hands. Ray had seen him fight and climb and set up a tent and steer a dogsled with those hands, and yeah, he’d wondered what else Fraser could do with them. He’d thought about Fraser’s hands touching another person, those big hands on someone’s bare skin. Not even him necessarily – anyone. There had to be someone Fraser wanted to touch, even if he didn’t know who it was. Someone out there knew what Fraser’s hands felt like, someone who knew how he touched them.

 

And now Ray knew, he was the one spread out with Fraser’s fingers inside him and Fraser breathing hard behind him, and he didn’t care how Fraser touched anybody else.

“No, no, no,” Ray babbled when Fraser pulled out, trying to raise his head to see what Fraser was doing.

Fraser put a heavy hand on the back of his neck again and he sank back into the bed.

“Stay there Ray, I want you like this - ” Fraser let go to fumble more Vaseline onto his hand. Then his fingers were back, sliding into Ray’s ass with an obscene wet sound that made Ray’s cock twitch.

 

They both groaned as Fraser started to open him up. It had been a long time, but Ray’s body still remembered this, still knew how to angle his hips and take it so that Fraser’s fingers brushed against his sweet spot and made him cry out.

 

“Oh Ray,” Fraser breathed. “You’re so - you’re so tight, you feel so good - ”

“So fuck me, it’ll feel even better, please…”

Fraser barked out a laugh that sounded like maybe his control was starting to fray.

“I know it will, that’s the problem. I could hurt you if I don’t open you up first,” Fraser said with a twist of his fingers that left Ray a panting, desperate mess.

“You won’t, I’m ready, I swear, I’m so ready,” Ray panted as those slow fingers tormented him.

“Just a little bit longer, Ray: I’ll get you there... ” he crooked his fingers against that spot again, braced over Ray’s back to keep him on the bed, just how Fraser wanted him. Ray didn’t care if he was begging, he didn’t care if Fraser saw him like this, all raw need, desperate to take it up the ass. Fraser’s cock kept brushing the back of his spread thighs, hard and thick and taunting him.

“Please fuck me,” he begged, voice hoarse, pushing back onto Fraser’s fingers. “You’re gonna make me come like this, I don’t wanna come like this.”

 

He’d wondered, obsessively almost, if Fraser had ever been with a guy, and even on nights when he convinced himself that yeah, of course he had, Ray’d never quite dared to imagine him this sure of himself, this in charge of things. Or that he himself would be so turned on by Fraser’s quiet confidence in bed, that Fraser’s usual gentle insistence on getting what he wanted would bring Ray to this: on his knees, ass up for him, begging for it.

 

“You won’t, Ray,” murmured Fraser, still stroking implacably in and out, finger fucking him as he writhed and sweated. “You can hold on, I know you can. Just relax, and let me get you ready…”

Ray whimpered as Fraser smeared even more Vaseline onto his hand and pressed three fingers back in. This time he did feel a burn: Fraser must have heard the difference in his breathing, because he stopped moving and just let Ray get used to it.

“Relax, Ray - that’s it, oh, yes, oh - _Ray_ , that’s it, I can feel you opening up, you’re letting me in…”

Ray could feel it too, his asshole stretching wide around Fraser’s fingers, just waiting for Fraser’s cock to take their place.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, do me, c’mon, I’m ready, I’m so ready…” he gasped out.

 

Fraser rocked his fingers deeper and already the burn had gone, leaving just that great tight feeling of being _filled_.

“Yes,” Fraser said thickly. “Alright. You’re ready, I’m going to - ”

Ray didn’t move a muscle as Fraser slicked his cock, breathing hard. He tried to just wait for it, to hold on to that melting, open feeling that would let Fraser in.

“I’m going to go slow,” Fraser told him, with the blunt tip of his cock just resting against Ray’s asshole, barely pressing inside, driving him _crazy_ with wanting it.

“You don’t need to go slow, I can take it, just give it to me - _ohhhh_ \- ” he broke off as Fraser finally pushed in and kept pushing, slow just like he promised, giving Ray time to get used to it, only he couldn’t. He could never get used to this, Fraser’s thick cock filling him and filling him.

When he was all the way in, buried deep in Ray’s ass, Fraser stopped again, breathing hard. His hands were still tight on Ray’s hips, holding him still.

“Oh Ray,” he groaned. “You’re so tight, I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, you’re wonderful…”

 _Letting him_ seemed like an understatement considering Ray was outright begging him to do it. And now, _finally,_ he was doing it. He was moving, pulling back to thrust in again, harder this time, cock so hard and sliding so sweet in Ray’s slick, stretched ass.

 

And then again, slow and hard, just taking him, nailing him so good. Fraser knew exactly what he was doing, Fraser had done this before: he should have _known_ Fraser had done this before. The clueless thing was an act, he’d always known that. At some level he hadn’t wanted to think Fraser could fuck like this, because if he’d thought about it there would have been no hiding what he wanted, no working together and sleeping side by side like they were just friends.

Ray grunted with each thrust, giving it all up as Fraser fucked him with steady, even strokes. His cock was aching, dripping precome onto the bed, desperate to be touched. Only he needed his hands to brace himself for Fraser. This was how Fraser wanted him, he’d said so, and Ray wanted to make it good for Fraser. And he didn’t want it to be over yet: if he touched himself, he was gonna come. All the prep, Fraser’s mouth on him, Fraser finger fucking him, _everything_ Fraser was doing to him, had him ramped up so tight it would be over in seconds if he put so much as a finger on his cock.

Fraser was pounding into him now, trusting him to take it. He wanted to be here for ever, with Fraser taking his pleasure in Ray’s ass and sending sparks up his spine with every stroke. He could see now why Fraser had taken so long opening him up, if this was how he fucked: you needed to be _ready_ for this.

But he wasn’t, not really. Even through the haze of his arousal, he knew this was only temporary, that this might be his only chance. He only had three days in this hotel with Fraser, and then they would both get back on a plane and it would be all over. Of course he wasn’t ready for this 

 

Maybe Fraser wanted to draw it out too, because he slowed down again, kneed Ray’s legs further apart to sink even deeper inside him.

“Oh Ray,” he groaned. “I’m so deep inside you, can you feel that?” and then he was pressed over Ray’s back, flattening him into the mattress. His hands reached for Ray’s to twine their fingers together, kissing his neck again and again as his cock rubbed up against Ray’s prostate. Fraser didn’t need to tell him to keep still now: he couldn’t move even as he felt his muscles tightening, his orgasm building and building. Fraser’s mouth didn’t leave his neck and his weight was pressing Ray’s cock into the bed, giving him all the friction he needed to go over, even if he didn’t want to yet. All he could do was yell Fraser’s name into the pillow and let it take him.

Fraser kept fucking him through it as he shook like he was falling apart, and only when he was done, completely spent and sated, did Fraser speed up again.

He drove in hard, three, four, five hard thrusts. Then he groaned from deep in his chest, a broken defenceless sound Ray had never thought he would hear Fraser make. Finally he froze, and Ray could feel him coming, deep inside his body.

 

Breathing hard, he collapsed on top of Ray like he was never going to move again. That was fine by Ray.

 

When he finally rolled off to one side he didn’t go far. Ray’s belly was sticky with his own come but Fraser didn’t seem to care: he pulled Ray into his arms so they were chest to chest, legs entwined, kissing Ray everywhere he could reach until their mouths touched.

They made out for what felt like a long time, slow and sleepy and deep. Fraser’s hand never stopped moving over Ray’s body, stroking his hair, the nape of his neck, his back, his ass and thigh, before reaching back to gently slide a finger into Ray’s ass where he was still fucked open and wet with lube and Fraser’s come.

Ray arched his back and heard himself give a pathetic little moan that just made Fraser deepen the kiss. His body wasn’t capable of getting turned on again this soon, but he was so sensitive that Ray was almost shaking in Fraser’s arms every time Fraser’s fingers pressed inside him.

 

That gentle penetration must have been all that was keeping him awake, because when Fraser stopped to pull the covers over them, sleep pulled him under almost immediately.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not over yet! There will be RESOLUTION! My boss is away ALL NEXT WEEK, if I don't post the next part before then! I make these mistakes so you don't have to, you know.


	3. Chapter 3

The phone woke Ray up. It didn’t sound like his phone at home or like his cell so it took him a second to work out what the noise was. He only answered it because he couldn’t think of another way to make it stop.

“Yeah,” he croaked into the receiver.

“Good morning, Mr. Fraser!” chirped a youthful Canadian voice.

His heart gave a huge thump in his chest at the sound of Fraser’s name, but Ray was still at least 70% asleep and he was this close to saying something spectacularly dumb like, I’ll just get him for you, he’s right here in bed next to me, when the voice continued: “It’s 7.30am, this is your courtesy wake up call!”

“Uh,” said Ray. “Ok, thanks,” and the cheerful Canadian voice hung up.

He turned around to find Fraser leaning up on his elbows, hair wildly dishevelled and for once in his life looking like he didn’t know where he was, or why he was waking up to find Ray in his bed and answering his calls.

Ray wasn't sure he had an answer for that either.

Then it hit him: they were having a _morning after_. There had been last night, and now this was the morning after. It was so long since Ray had spent the night with anyone - except Fraser, in a totally different, keep-all-your-clothes-on way that was no help at all here - that he couldn’t remember how this was supposed to go. If he’d ever known in the first place, it had all gotten pushed out with memories of bright snow and sled dogs and oatmeal steaming in the cold and his 7.30am brain could not join up the dots between there and here. Did he go in for a kiss? Say something about last night? Like what, anyway - Wow you fuck great? Act like nothing had happened and they were just naked here together by total coincidence? _Shit shit shit, decide, Kowalski! Don’t screw this up!_

But he couldn’t. He looked at Fraser, and Fraser looked at him, and the moment lasted at least a hundred years.

In that hundred years Ray had plenty of time to notice how good Fraser looked all mussed up, that he could still feel where Fraser had fucked him up the ass and ridden him hard. That he wanted Fraser to do it again, and he had no idea how he was going to cope with the rest of the conference.

“Hi, Ray,” Fraser said tentatively. And then his face changed as if it was all coming back to him. He broke out into a smile that managed to be delighted and embarrassed and conspiratorial all at the same time. If he was usually so good at keeping a poker face, it was obviously because he was saving his energy for smiles like that.

  
Ray found himself smiling helplessly back.

 

“Hey Frase.” He gestured back at the phone. “Wake up call. It’s 7.30.”

“Right,” said Fraser, still smiling. Then the smile dropped off his face. “Oh! Oh no, I have to - I promised to meet with Inspector Thatcher at 8, I have to - ”

“Oh. Okay, yeah, we should - I’ll go back to my room so you can get dressed, I guess...” he trailed off, too distracted by the sight of Fraser with the covers falling down to his waist to finish a sentence.

“Yes,” said Fraser, still looking at him.

Neither of them made a move to get up. Was this like the locker room, where you looked away and pretended not to see the other guy’s cock? But it was Fraser, and now he knew what Fraser’s cock felt like hard inside him. He was still wet and tender from getting fucked by Fraser’s cock, that changed things, right?

 

Fraser moved first, getting decisively out of bed without making any effort to cover himself. So Ray did the same, wincing as he sat up and casting around for his clothes as Fraser headed into the bathroom. He didn’t shut the door and Ray heard the shower come on, then Fraser’s head appeared again.

“Ray, I’m sorry I have to rush, but I will see you later, won’t I?” He looked so earnest Ray figured he wasn’t just talking about the two of them hanging out at the buffet table and talking about the conference.

“Yeah, sure. Course,” Ray told him, zipping up his pants. “I’ll come find you. And I’ll be there for your presentation, I’ll sit right in the front like we said, ok?”

Steam was drifting out of the open door, making Fraser’s hair curl. He glanced back over his shoulder, and then he was gazing at Ray again, a look Ray couldn’t read on his face. His shoulders rose as he took a deep breath, then he was crossing the room with only a towel round his waist, grabbing Ray’s head and giving him one deep, hard kiss on the mouth.

“Thank you,” he said.

Ray squeezed his shoulders as Fraser let go. “Go shower,” he said, “I’ll see you later,” and Fraser disappeared into the bathroom again, this time closing the door behind him.

Ray listened at the room door to make sure the coast was clear before opening it and stepping out into the corridor. Maybe he could have passed it off as dropping off case notes first thing or some bullshit, but wasn’t feeling up to making a go of any creative storytelling this early and it was a relief not to have to try.

 

***

 

It turned out he couldn’t get near Fraser all morning, what with the press of important Canadians needing to talk to him before he gave his presentation. Fraser caught his eye across the room during the coffee break and grinned like he couldn’t help it. The second time they got a glimpse of each other he waved. Third time Ray saw him politely cut off the guy he was talking to and start heading over, but before Ray could meet him halfway through the crowd of cops on the hunt for their second donut of the day, someone else had got him. It must have been pretty important, because Fraser shot an apologetic look back at Ray and mouthed “I’ll see you later” before letting himself be led away.

Ray stood in the middle of the room feeling like an idiot. He couldn’t see anyone he knew: the place seemed to be full of Canadians, and right now he wasn’t feeling quite strong enough to deal with Canadians. Then to his relief he spotted Joanne Willis next to the pastries and drifted over to drink his coffee with her.

 

“Hey Joanne,” he mumbled, grabbing a Danish.

“Oh, hi Ray!” she said with a mouth full of pastry, turning to face him. “It’s your paper up today, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well it’s not – it’s not really mine, it’s, uh, it’s Fraser - ” just saying Fraser’s name out loud sent a weird thrill through him.

Then she did a double take as she got a proper look at him.

“Um, Ray, I hope you don’t think I’m outta line telling you this, but you’ve got a mark just here - ” she indicated the place on her own neck “ - that looks a lot like a hickey. I know it’s just a bruise or something…” she said, even though she knew no such thing because it wasn’t a bruise, of course it wasn’t a bruise.

Ray remembered Fraser’s mouth on his neck as he fucked him open, and the memory was so vivid he could feel himself blush. His hand shot up to cover the mark - way to look guilty, Ray!

“Yeah, s’a bruise,” he croaked.

Joanne was rummaging in her purse and holding out a shiny tube of something. For a second Ray thought she was offering him _lipstick_ \- what the fuck was he supposed to do with _lipstick?_ and then he remembered Stella’s makeup bag and of course, it was _concealer_ , Joanne was lending him concealer to hide his hickey like this was highschool or something.

“Here. Obviously it’s a bruise, but, you know - in case anyone got the wrong idea,” she said earnestly, all eye contact and we’re in this together, it’s a bruise! Or allergies! It’s whatever you say it is, Ray! Joanne’s face was saying.

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking the little gold tube and shoving it into his pocket. “I’ll be right back.”

 

He ducked into the handicapped bathroom - no way was he gonna risk someone walking in on him putting on makeup in the men’s room. He looked himself right in the eye in the mirror, gripping the edge of the sink and trying to calm the fuck down here. Now he knew it was there, the hickey was really fucking obvious. How hadn’t he seen it? The skin was red and tender to the touch, and he ought to have been mortified. He’d been walking around like that all morning, Fraser’s mark on him for everyone to see. He ought to be mad at Fraser for staking a claim in such a public way, and maybe he would have been if he thought Fraser had done it on purpose. But he couldn’t forget the things Fraser had whispered in his ear while he worked him open, sounding right on the edge of losing it.

He was almost getting turned on again just thinking about it. He was gonna cover it up, but he was glad it was there. Proof. Evidence.

 

Joanne was waiting for him by the coffee urn. Her eyes flicked to his neck and she nodded once and held her purse open as he dropped the concealer back inside.

“Thanks, Joanne.”

She waved it off. “You’re one up on me, Kowalski. You going to tell me who it was?”

“Uh, ha ha, yeah, you don’t - um, I - ”

He must have looked more uncomfortable than he thought. Joanne went serious right away.

“Hey! I was joking, Ray. You know how many other guys would have pretended not to have seen anything, when it was me that time? Woulda kept quiet about it? Not very many. Of course you don’t kiss and tell, I already knew you were a gentleman. It can be our secret, ok?”

“‘kay. Thanks. ‘Preciate it,” Ray muttered, forcing himself to look up and meet her eye. He didn’t have anything to be ashamed of, dammit. Half the people in the room would jump at the chance to go to bed with Fraser. Then he thought about how few women there were and revised that down to 25%. Sure, another 25% would do it, but only if they knew no one would ever find out.

“Here, you need another coffee,” Joanne was saying, pressing a cup into his hand.

For a second Ray asked himself why he hadn’t done something sensible and normal like try to have sex with _her_ last night. She was pretty, and willing to cover for him, and she got him coffee. Honestly, plenty of relationships were founded on a lot less.

Maybe not him and Fraser, but a lot of other relationships.

 

***

 

Fraser looked pretty relaxed walking out to the lectern. Ray was nervous enough for the both of them from his seat in the front row.

He needn’t have been, of course. Fraser was naturally good at this: like he’d said, he didn’t read it out loud, he told the story, and it turned out that schoolteacher lecture voice he put on when he told stories worked really well on a conference stage.

Of course it helped that there were a lot of people in the audience who would have looked pretty bad if the submarine thing had gone down differently, but it didn’t follow that they needed to like Fraser personally. Senior officers mostly didn’t, in Ray’s experience. But here, stubborn professional self-confidence and his self-deprecating asides were like a secret formula. Ray scanned the lecture theatre anxiously a couple minutes in, but no one was sleeping and no one was whispering. 500 North American law enforcement professionals were silently listening to Benton Fraser tell them his International Policing secrets and how he’d arrested his mom’s murderer and a psychopath with a nuclear submarine with nothing but his bare hands and a pointy stick. Ray was struck with pride for him, and then with a weird, inappropriate thrill that he was the one with Fraser’s hickey on his neck. _You’re all listening to him, but I’m the only one he fucked! Take_ that, _suckers!_

 

There were a lot of questions at the end. They started off really detailed about the submarine and Muldoon, and Ray could see Fraser stiffen every time he had to go off script and talk about the guy. But he did it.

A Canadian voice at the back asked, “How did you coordinate with the US Federal authorities?” and Fraser found Ray in the front row, silently asking permission and waiting for Ray’s nod before he said, “I’d like to refer that one to my co-author, Detective Kowalski of the Chicago Police Department…”

And Ray wasn’t even nervous as the technician passed him a mike and he stood up to answer. The mike meant he could hear his own voice, sounding like some other, more together kind of guy. The sort of guy that spoke at conferences and owned a suit and who’d work well with the Fraser who was up at the lectern right now.

His hands were shaking when he sat down again, but Fraser nodded at him again to say he’d done good and he grinned back in relief.

There was a boring question and an interesting one and then a kinda flirtatious one that Fraser shut down by pretending not to notice.

Then from the back, an American voice asked:

“Drawing from your personal experience, what would you say is the key to a successful international policing initiative like yours?”

Ray wondered if Fraser had maybe planted that question.

“Well, firstly I think the long-term nature of the Chicago posting was essential to its success. You can’t get to know local custom or learn anything really in depth unless you’re there for at least a couple of years, I would say,” Fraser began, and Ray could tell this was going to be a long answer.

“Secondly, in my case I was very lucky to have two highly trusting and farseeing superior officers, in the form of Inspector Margaret Thatcher, attached to the Canadian Consulate, and Lieutenant Harding Welsh at the 27th Division. Both were prepared to give the liaison programme time and freedom to develop, and were receptive to all the positive influences it could bring.”

(Ray could imagine Thatcher _loving_ that.)

“But most importantly, for myself at least, I would have to say that a close working relationship with with my American counterpart was the crucial factor. The exercise will remain purely academic unless you are really working in a partnership with someone on the ground, and I was fortunate enough to, ah, to work first with Detective Vecchio, who welcomed me and helped me enormously when I first arrived, and then with my co-author today Detective Kowalski. As well as the best police partner anyone could hope for, he is a friend, and, ah - ” Fraser paused.

 

Ray saw him lick his lips and for a terrible second he thought Fraser had lost the thread, gotten distracted by the memory of last night’s amazing bad-idea sex in front of _hundreds of people._

 

Then he picked up again. “I’m not sure Ray would speak of the experience _quite_ so warmly - ” he licked his lips one more time, “I have been told I’m the most annoying man on the planet, but he was certainly very forbearing with me…”

The microphone guy was hovering in case Ray wanted to add anything, but he didn’t think he could. How could you answer _that_ in a conference hall?

Fraser finally looked at him, question on his face. Ray desperately wanted to just shake his head, stay in his seat, nothing to see here microphone guy, keep moving. But what would that look like to Fraser? So he stood up and grabbed the mike in sweaty hands, no idea what he was going to say.

 

“Yeah, I’d just agree with what Fraser just said, that the partnership worked really well, I guess we hit it off, and that - uh, that helped, uh - ”

Fraser was watching him with his listening face on. Did he really think Ray was going to say anything he didn’t already know now? Into a microphone? Maybe he did.

“Uh, well, it was one of the best experiences of my career, for sure, we learned a lot from each other, and the, the, that long term thing Fraser said, that was real important, because you, uh, you can’t get to know someone and how they work in just a week or whatever."

“And maybe not just anyone would be so good at this, you know, cops who think they got nothing to learn from the Canadians ‘cause you guys are just, you know, giving parking tickets to sled dogs - which you would think ought to be the other way around, that if you got your violent crime sorted out enough so you can ticket a dog, you got something going on we oughta know about, but…” the Canadians liked that: a ripple of laughter went round the room. “And there’s people - like me, uh, in fact - who wouldn’t keep their cool as well as Fraser did when the guys would start with Canadian jokes. So you need someone who, um, who’s like, open minded, but can take some - you know, some flak. So yeah that’s what I think.”

Ray was already holding the mike out to the waiting technician when he snatched it back and added, “And you’re not the most annoying man on the planet, if I ever said that I take it back.”

Fraser was looking at him intently and there was another swell of laughter from the audience. So fine, let them think he was joking. Fraser always got his jokes anyway.

 

***

 

If it had been impossible to talk to Fraser in the morning, it was double-dog-dare impossible now. There was always someone congratulating him, shaking his hand, introducing him to someone else who wanted to shake his hand, clapping him on the shoulder, asking him questions about the gas, the submarine, the arrest.

Ray gave up immediately on any kind of private conversation about - last night, about the thing they did, the - the - and he had to stop there. When he even let his brain go anywhere near a word like sex, he got sideswiped remembering the weight of Fraser on top of him, Fraser’s hands on him, Fraser’s cock inside him. They weren’t going to be talking about that _here_.

He would have settled for just getting to say hi, and he nearly gave up on that too. But on something like the fifth time he caught Fraser’s eye across the room, he saw Fraser cut off the bald guy who was talking at him and make a beeline for him, something very close to desperation on his face.

“Ray! Thank God you’re here. I don’t know how much more of this I can stand,” he was gripping Ray’s elbow tight like he was afraid someone would come and drag him away again if he wasn’t holding on.

“You wanna get out of here?” Ray asked, gripping Fraser’s arm right back.

Fraser’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Oh God yes. Can we?”

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go, c’mon.”

Only they couldn’t.

 

At the door they were intercepted by the same older guy in the good suit who’d got to Fraser at the coffee break.

“Ah, just the men I was looking for! I need to borrow you for a few minutes before lunch - you’ve got a few minutes, haven’t you?”

Ray knew a question that wasn’t really a question when he heard one, but that didn’t mean anyone had to say yes here. He shot a look at Fraser and began:

“Well, uh, you know in fact this isn’t the best time, we were just - ”

“Ten minutes,” the good suit guy insisted, putting a hand on Fraser’s arm so he’d follow, like he just knew which of them had a hard time saying no when other people wanted something from him.

Fraser looked over at Ray and gave a tiny nod. So, fine. If Fraser said ten minutes, he had ten minutes. Ray was _timing_ him.

 

“Detective Kowalski, let me introduce myself. Inspector John Taylor, with the RCMP’s Strategic Planning team. Listen, I was very impressed by that presentation, and of course by the police work behind it. There’s been a lot of high-level conversations happening about cross-border issues since the two of you brought in that submarine, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

Fraser nodded earnestly.

“Yeah,” said Ray, as if he too spent a lot of time imagining high-level conversations about cross-border issues. Not – other things. To do with Fraser.

“After our chat this morning, Constable Fraser probably has a fair idea what I wanted to speak to you about, but I’ll start from the beginning, Detective: Ottowa has green-lighted the funds for an international task force to take on precisely the kind of work the two of you did every day. It’s going to start slow, and today’s presentation really brought home the importance of starting with the right people, just like you said - ”

Ray shot a look at Fraser.

“ – Now, none of this is in writing yet, but I don’t want to leave the conference without at least a verbal confirmation that you’re both interested in taking this on. You’re high-profile candidates, so if you say no publicly we’re getting off to the wrong start, you understand.”

Ray stared at the guy for a second, then turned to Fraser.

Fraser wasn’t giving anything away.

“I’m certainly interested in hearing more about the project, yes,” he said. “Ray?”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Ray managed.

“Well I appreciate that you can’t give me a definitive answer without more details, but if we were to offer you both an initial five year contract to set up a task force, based out of Toronto but with significant travel between Canada and the US and to hotspots along the border, with a highly competitive salary and benefits package, could I expect a positive response?”

 

This time Fraser looked at him before he spoke. Sometimes it was easy to tell what Fraser was thinking, and this was one of those times alright. Everything about him seemed to be saying _yes yes yes._

“From me you can, yes,” said Fraser, still looking at Ray. He dragged his gaze away and added, “And it would be a pleasure to work with Detective Kowalski again.”

Then they were both looking at Ray, waiting for him to say something as he sweated into a suit he never wore with Fraser’s hickey on his neck and Joanne Willis’s makeup covering it up. Once a con job, always a con job, he thought almost desperately. Of course there couldn’t be any more hickeys if they did this: Fraser was nothing if not professional. No way would he screw the other guy on the task force. But if they _didn’t_ do this, there wouldn’t be any more hickeys either, because he would go back to Chicago and Fraser would go back up north, and what did he have to lose anyway?

 

When Fraser broke out into a smile, he realised he’d already given his answer.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’d get a positive response from me too,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying not to remember how many ways he’d said yes to Fraser last night.

John Taylor looked so happy about that it almost made him get suspicious. “Well, that’s excellent news, gentlemen! I’m sorry to put you on the spot and spring this on you in a hallway, but things are moving fast and it’s so important to get the PR right from the start. We’ve already got institutional support from the Chicago Police Department, but now I know you’re both on board I can start the paperwork to make you a formal offer – ah, Jim - ”

 

Another old guy in a good suit was coming towards them.

 

“Good news, Jim: your first choice team is saying yes,” John Taylor told him, and that set off a round of hand-shaking and shoulder-clasping from whoever the hell Jim was. He had three minutes left, but if he wanted to waste them on getting his hands on Fraser, Ray could sympathise if not exactly approve.

“Well, this is really good news!” Jim beamed. “Listen, I’ll get my team to start with some paperwork right away. Detective, we’re hoping to get the Chicago Police Department to work with us on this, I’ve got a meeting arranged with the Commissioner next week and knowing that an officer of your calibre is on board will be a big help. We’re planning to employ you directly, to have dedicated staff working on this thing, but if the CPD is supporting us that’s a big step forward, obviously.”

Out of the corner of his eye Ray could see Fraser nodding, so he nodded too.

“Listen, I’m on my way to speak with Ed Quirion - you’re joining us for this, right, John? - here’s my card, I’ll get the proposal sent out as soon as I get back to Ottowa but if you have any questions in the meantime, give me a call, ok?”

 

Then there was more smiling and more handshaking, and _this_ was the kind of handshaking Ray was interested in, this was bye, see ya later, looking forward to working with you! type handshaking, until finally it was just him and Fraser.

Alone for the first time since that morning, looking at each other in a corridor and wondering what the hell just happened.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing I personally enjoyed most about this chapter about a conference in Canada were the parts I wrote at work while my boss was actually at a conference in Canada. This may be the reason in a nutshell why I am destined to professional mediocrity, but I like fanfic more than my job so I'm pretty much ok with that.
> 
> Oh and it turns out there are going to be 4 chapters, sorry, I'm not good at this WIP stuff. The last part is all written and betaed and everything, I did not mean to leave 2 weeks between updates last time so to make up for it chapter 4 will be up TOMORROW. Someone hold me to that, ok?


	4. Chapter 4

“Uh,” Ray began, and then he didn’t know what else to say.

“Yes, quite,” Fraser agreed, and Ray let out a sharp breath of laughter.

“So, uh, listen, Frase - ” and Fraser had on his listening face alright. He even took a step closer to listen better. Or something.

“Perhaps we should discuss this,” Fraser offered, trying to help.

“Yeah. Yeah, we should discuss this. You wanna…?”

Fraser was nodding without even waiting to hear what he was going to suggest, and while it was good to know Fraser was on board with the plan, he wished he had a clearer idea what the plan was. Were they gonna discuss working together or _working together?_ Or both? Here in the corridor? In an empty seminar room? Upstairs? Because right now, with Fraser standing so close, in that suit that made him look like a hot stranger who knew what he wanted, the venue seemed like it would make a lot of difference to the kind of discussing that was going to happen.

 

But he didn’t get a chance to find out.

Buck Frobisher appeared out of fucking _nowhere_ in front of them. Of course Fraser couldn’t cut out on his dad’s old partner, and Ray wasn’t about to go anywhere without him.

“Benton! Fine presentation, very good. I could hear you perfectly even at the back.”

“Thank you, yes, the acoustics here are excellent,” Fraser was falling down a bit on his usual earnest eye contact. He glanced over his shoulder like he was planning an escape route before turning back to Frobisher.

“Your father would be proud of you. Your mother too,” he said.

Then it was his turn to clap Fraser on the shoulder. Maybe he had more right than the rest of them, seeing as he’d actually been friends with Fraser’s parents, but Fraser didn’t seem to appreciate it much more from him than anyone else. He flinched very slightly, pulled his shoulders so straight it almost looked painful.

Which should have been Ray’s cue to not touch him, but before that thought had reached his hand it was too late, it was on Fraser’s arm. To his relief, Fraser seemed to lean into his touch as if he was seeking comfort and knew Ray was offering it.

“Ok?” Ray asked, quiet as he could. If Fraser was losing it, the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to it.

Fraser just nodded.

“You men look hungry. They’re serving lunch, I told Inspector Meers and Inspector Thatcher I’d track you down - everybody wants to shake your hand, Benton. You too, Detective,” he added, but it was clear who the real star of the show was.

Fraser seemed to be steeling himself to go through with it: he took a deep breath and Ray actually heard the noise when he cricked his neck, like a fighter going into the ring.

 

There weren’t many things Ray wanted to do less than eat lunch with a bunch of Canadian cops with all this on the table. His nerves wouldn’t stand it, he was gonna lose it, big time. A bullshit excuse was on the tip of his tongue when he saw Fraser’s face.

 

“Ray? I did want to discuss a couple of things with you, perhaps over lunch…” he said, but his face was telling a different story. His face was saying, _please don’t leave me alone with these people_. And really, when did Fraser ever ask him for anything that was for himself? He’d ask for the moon on a stick for someone else, but if it was for him, really just for him?

“Uh, yeah, sure, I’ll come for lunch,” Ray said, and Fraser’s smile of relief was a beautiful thing to see. A guy could get used to making Fraser look like that.

 

There was the usual shuffling in the doorway as everyone jostled discreetly to position themselves near the right people. Ray figured he’d get stuck somewhere off on his own with a cross section of less important Canadians hoping some of Fraser’s reflected glory would reflect a bit off Ray.

Fraser was still at his side, back to his first defence, all ultra polite _after you_ and _no, after you_ , but then suddenly he was hustling Ray up to the table where two chairs next to each other were still free, and actually sitting down without waiting for everyone else. So what was Ray gonna do, stand there and let someone elbow him out of the seat of honour at Fraser’s side? He sat down so fast he cracked his elbow on the chair next to him.

 

***

 

The lunch lasted about a million years.

He was painfully aware of Fraser at his side the whole time. When he shifted in his seat his shoulder brushed Fraser’s, and once he felt Fraser’s leg press against his. He carefully didn’t look at Fraser so he couldn’t tell if Fraser was doing it on purpose, but he pressed back just in case.

Lunch was normally something Ray was in favour of, but this one was like the networking and the question and answer session and the coffee break all rolled into one. They wouldn’t leave Fraser alone. A situation like this really called for high-fat, high-salt assistance, but all they got was small fancy food that was no help at all when your best friend was being persecuted with questions full of words like _jurisdiction_ and _cooperation_ and _liaising_. Ray found himself answering half of them, just to give Fraser a break to eat. _Ray_ had no problem talking with his mouth full.

 

Finally when it seemed like they would be stuck at this table with all the keenest, most boring law enforcement agents in North America for the rest of their lives, the waiter appeared with coffee. Coffee was the universal sign that a meal was over, and Fraser was right on the ball. He took advantage of the very first pause in questions to turn to Ray.

 

“Ah, Ray, that’s just reminded me, I still have a lot of your case notes in my room. Shall I leave them at reception for you, or would you rather pick them up now before I forget?”

Fraser was actually a genius. He probably did have Ray’s case notes in his room, too.

Mindful of their audience, Ray made a show of reluctance. “Uh, yeah, I guess I better come get them now. Just gimme a sec to finish this - ” he drained his coffee in what he hoped was one convincingly slow swallow, warring with all the instincts screaming at him to just leave it there and follow Fraser _right damn now_ before someone else decided they just had to talk to them.

He could feel Fraser watching him but his face didn’t give anything away. Maybe he bought it: maybe he thought Ray didn’t really want to come upstairs with him. Then Fraser licked his lips and shifted slightly in his seat and Ray had to fight back a grin. So sure, he was going up to certain doom by talking about this, willingly letting himself in for a Conversation about the Future and Stupid Things that He Had Done, but it was a hell of a rush to see the kind of effect he had on Fraser.

 

* 

 

Neither of them spoke in the elevator.

The hallway down to Fraser’s room was the longest hallway in Canada. Ray found he was paying a lot of attention to the carpet.

He wanted to break the silence, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.

For once it seemed Fraser couldn’t either. He had the keycard ready in his hand and held the door open for Ray to go in first without a word.

 

They might have left in a hurry this morning, but this was a hotel. There were no rumpled sheets to remind them what they’d done here: the room had been cleaned and the bed was neatly made.

Ray didn’t know if he was glad of it or not. It might have helped to have a reminder, or it might have been unbearable. He stared at the bed for a second then turned his back on it to look at Fraser.

Fraser was standing very still, watching him. He was standing up very straight and his face showed absolutely nothing.

Then his shoulders got even straighter and he cleared his throat, steeling himself for something.

 

“I’m - sorry I didn’t manage to speak to you earlier.”

Ray shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. I saw what it was like.”

 

Then he waited for Fraser to keep going. Fraser looked like a man with something to say.

 

“Ray, this is - ordinarily I would accept this offer.”

Ray nodded, pacing. He picked up a pen, clicked the ballpoint in and out, in and out. Fraser twitched once at the noise but didn’t complain.

“Yeah. Well. Uh, me too. I’d be really interested in working with you again too, Frase. You know, ordinarily,” Ray said.

 

Fraser nodded earnestly at that.

 

“I have to admit it never occurred to me anyone would just come right out and suggest something like this - ” he bit his lip, then took a step towards Ray in a burst of irrepressible enthusiasm. “Ray, we would be perfect for this! It’s like they’re planning this task force with you and me in mind!”

“Well yeah, that’s because they are. Your name’s in the paper, everyone wants a piece of you right now. But me, I dunno, it’s like a buy one get one free or something.”

Fraser was shaking his head. “No. You’re an outstanding police officer, and naturally people recognise that.”

Ray pulled a face. He knew he was good at some stuff, but not international taskforce type stuff. That had to be obvious to everyone except Fraser.

But Fraser ignored his objection. “You know what my commanding officers used to say in my performance reviews?”

Ray fought back a grin and lost. “Pain in the ass?” he said. Fraser had walked into that one.

“Apart from that.”

Ray shrugged. “I dunno. What did they say?”

“That I don’t work well with others. Not a team player, and words to that effect.”

“Yeah? Well that’s bullshit, you worked with Vecchio and me and you never committed an act of violence against Dewey. And Turnbull - anyone who can work with that guy deserves some kinda teamwork medal.”

“Yes well, I think teamwork depends a lot on the team you’ve got to work with, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

“So even if it were just me who had achieved something noteworthy, I wouldn’t have got the same results if I hadn’t been partnered with you.”

“So what - it’d be good if we, uh, were partners again?”

Fraser took a deep breath. “Amongst other things, yes.”

“Yeah,” Ray echoed. There were some other things going on here alright. If it was just work, this would be easy. But right from the very first day, it had always been more than just work with him and Fraser.

“Ray, I’m - I want - ” Fraser came another step closer then stopped. For a second they just looked at each other with a foot of hotel carpet between them.

“You wanna know how I feel about - ” Ray jerked his head at the bed. “That what you’re asking?”

Fraser looked over at the bed and nodded.

“I know circumstances have changed,” Fraser said, putting his hands in his pockets like someone had told him it would make him look relaxed. He didn’t look especially relaxed, but then Ray was about to vibrate out of his own skin so he didn’t have a leg to stand on there. “I won’t pretend it isn’t what I want, but knowing what we know now, about our options for the future, maybe last night shouldn’t have happened.”

It was reassuring to be able to fall back on anger. Being angry with Fraser was easier than whatever _this_ was. “Oh yeah Fraser, that’s really nice to hear. I always like to know when someone thinks having sex with me was a mistake.”

 

Fraser frowned - were they not supposed to say they’d had sex? Did it all have to be last night and sentences that trailed off because they weren’t naming it? Bullshit.

 

“That isn’t what I said,” Fraser said. He wasn’t mad by Chicago standards, but on the Fraser scale he wasn’t far off. “Don’t put words into my mouth. It wasn’t a mistake - I’m sure you have a fair idea that it was something I’d been wanting for a long time. I wanted to have sex with you, I’m glad we did it, but tell me honestly: if you’d known they would offer us the chance to work together again, would you have made exactly the same decisions?”

“Yes! No! Yeah, I would - uh - ” and then he had to stop and actually think about it. Would he, really? Would he have just pulled his clothes off and rolled over for Fraser so easy if he’d thought they might be setting up an international policing unit together in a few months?

 

His face was all the answer Fraser needed.

 

“Exactly. Maybe we would have made the same choice - ” his voice softened and he stepped close to put his hands on Ray’s hips. “- this has been a long time coming, but maybe it wouldn’t have happened for another few months…”

“Yeah. Maybe. I dunno,” Ray was losing interest in this argument now Fraser was within kissing distance, looking at him with big blue eyes, all sincerity.

“It doesn’t have to happen again, if you think it would make it - weird - to work together…”

 

Ray was already shaking his head, like Fraser must’ve hoped he would. Otherwise why would he be standing so close?

 

“It’s always weird working together. That’s like, our thing, isn’t it? Me and you, it’s weird.”

 

Fraser smiled and closed the remaining gap between them, his arms coming tight round Ray’s waist.

 

“You think we can work together if we’re doing this?” Fraser asked, voice gone low.

 

If Ray’d had any doubt what _this_ was, Fraser pushing him down him onto the bed and kissing him clued him in pretty fast.

 

“I don’t think I can work with you and _not_ do this,” Ray answered breathlessly. “The cat’s kinda outta the bag now.” He grabbed Fraser’s ass and ground up against him.

“Yeah, I see your point,” Fraser said.

 

Then Fraser was undoing his pants and pulling his shirt off and kissing him all at the same time, it felt like. His hands were everywhere and Ray was half naked before he’d realised what was happening. It was like last night, he was gonna end up a naked, turned on mess before Fraser even took his tie off.

Ray pushed him back just enough to reach his shirt buttons and started to fumble them open. This time he wanted Fraser naked before he was too far gone to appreciate it, but Fraser was so focused on stripping Ray he wasn’t really cooperating.

 

“Fraser, take your clothes off,” he said. “Please just - take your clothes off.”

 

And that seemed to work. Whether it was the politeness or the fact that he already sounded like he was begging, Ray didn’t know. But Fraser was pulling his own shirt off over his head, standing up to step out of his shoes, and then his pants and shorts followed while Ray just stared at him, mouth watering.

He’d barely gotten a look at Fraser’s cock last night and now there it was, hard and thick and he had to taste.

He tackled Fraser round the waist and they came down sideways across the bed in a tangle. Ray squirmed down until Fraser suddenly understood what he was trying to do. He went up on his knees, one arm braced on the headboard and pointed his cock down to Ray’s open mouth.

 

“Oh, yes, _Ray_ ,” he breathed as Ray took him in.

His first few thrusts were gentle – checking if Ray really knew how to suck cock without choking himself, probably – and then he went deeper and deeper, stretching Ray’s jaw wide to take him all the way to the back of his throat as he groaned and fucked Ray’s mouth.

It was so good, Ray was hard as a rock just from sucking him, from Fraser leaning over and making him take it. He looked up and Fraser was watching him, eyes half closed, mouth soft and open as he slid hard and slick between Ray’s lips, over and over again.

Ray couldn’t help smiling and Fraser groaned deeper, obviously feeling it around his cock. Ray was suddenly afraid he was gonna come right there and he tightened his grip on Fraser’s hips. Ray couldn’t pull away in this position: if Fraser wanted to just bring himself off in Ray’s mouth, there wasn’t much Ray could do to stop him.

 

But Fraser wasn’t so lost in it after all. He picked up Ray’s wordless appeal and pulled back so Ray could speak, running his thumb over Ray’s swollen lower lip.

“What do you want, Ray?” he asked.

If you’re gonna do something stupid, you may as well do something really stupid, he figured.

“I want you to fuck me again,” Ray said.

 

Fraser bit his lip, obviously tempted. His thumb dipped into Ray’s mouth and Ray sucked on it for a second then added, “Please. Please fuck me again.”

 

Yeah, that did it. Fraser’s chest heaved and his eyes fluttered closed. When he opened them his control was obviously hanging by a thread.

 

“Aren’t you sore?” he asked, voice hoarse.

 

He was, a little. Fraser had ridden him pretty hard last night, but he wanted it again. Nothing compared to that feeling of being filled, claimed, taken.

 

“No, I’m good. Use a lot of slick,” he said, reaching for the jar of Vaseline on Fraser’s nightstand and pressing it into Fraser hand. “Get me ready like you did before. It’ll be fine.”

 

Fraser lifted off to let him wriggle out of his pants and roll onto his side.

 

He started slow, pressed warm up against Ray’s back as he slid his fingers in. Slow and careful and perfect, and Ray just gave it all up. He heard himself moaning, a desperate, needy kind of sound, and he didn’t even care. Fraser was holding him close and breathing hard, and he just had to touch himself.

When he took his cock in his hand he couldn’t stop his hips bucking up into the heat of his own fist and then back onto Fraser’s fingers inside him, or the groan that escaped him at how fucking _good_ it felt.

 

“Oh, Ray…” Fraser breathed, and then he was flat on his back and Fraser was pushing his legs open.

“I neglected you before, let me make it up to you…” he whispered, and Ray had just a second to wonder what the fuck Fraser was talking about, because neglected was not a thing he had felt, really not at all, not a single inch of him.

 

Then Fraser’s hand was on his cock, and Fraser was moving between Ray’s spread thighs, dipping his head to take Ray’s cock into his mouth.

If he’d been expecting it, maybe he wouldn’t have made the embarrassing noise he ended up making. Fraser didn’t seem to mind: he made a noise of his own that came from deep in his chest and seemed to reverberate around Ray’s erection, then Ray was rocking up helplessly into the incredible tight heat of Fraser’s mouth.

 

Until Fraser stopped.

 

Ray took in a great gasp of air and saw him lift his head, reach for something, then he was back. That beautiful mouth was sucking Ray in - and if he watched that for another second he was gonna come - then his fingers slid back into Ray’s ass, and Ray nearly lost it.

He almost came off the bed, but he couldn’t because then he would choke Fraser and if he choked Fraser then Fraser would stop, and Fraser couldn’t stop, this was perfect, this was the best thing he had ever felt, the sparks from Fraser’s fingers deep up his ass seemed to join up with the waves of pleasure from Fraser’s mouth on his cock, and he held on as long as he could, he did, he was holding on and holding on and balancing right on the edge of coming for an eternity, it was forever, his body suspended between Fraser’s hand and Fraser’s mouth, and then Fraser’s fingers twisted inside him and he tipped right over the edge into the most powerful orgasm he’d ever felt.

 

He opened his eyes to Fraser smiling down at him. His belly and chest were sticky where he’d come all over himself and his whole body felt like it was glowing.

 

“Fuck me, Fraser,” he said, looking right into Fraser’s eyes. He’d never been fucked right after coming, but his body was speaking to him and it knew what it wanted. Fraser’s cock, deep inside him, stretching him and filling him up.

 

Fraser bit his lip and grabbed the tub of Vaseline, slicked himself up with sure, steady hands. Ray just lay there, legs open, covered in come, and waited for him. Maybe later he’d worry about how easy he rolled over for Fraser, how he gave everything up before Fraser even asked for it, but not now.

He let Fraser lift one leg right over his shoulder, almost bending him double: all his muscles were lax and easy now that he’d come, and it felt like he could move however Fraser wanted him. Fraser pushed his other leg to the side, further and further until Ray was wide open for him, and then he slid in, all at once, the thick heat of his cock filling Ray up and making him gasp as Fraser bottomed out.

Fraser didn’t move for a second. He just held himself there, braced over Ray, and looked right into his eyes.

 

“Ray,” he breathed. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Ray lied. Fraser’s cock was huge inside him, pressing up everywhere he was sensitive, making every nerve ending come alive in a way that was just the right side of too much. And Fraser wasn’t even moving yet. “Do it, I want you to.”

He didn’t know why he said it like that, it wasn’t like Fraser was asking for permission anyway. He already knew he had it.

 

Fraser gave him one of those huge, brilliant smiles in response, one of those smiles you hardly ever saw that showed his crooked tooth and made him look ten years younger and a different person altogether. Someone happy, maybe, who’d gotten what he wanted in life.

Right now what he wanted was to fuck Ray’s ass. He gave one slow, hard thrust that made Ray arch his back in pleasure, trying to impale himself even further on Fraser’s cock.

 

Fraser gasped out, “Ah!” and thrust again, and again, hard and sure. Ray reached up to grip the solid muscles of his arms, biceps clearly defined where he held himself braced on the bed. He was still looking down at Ray, and something he saw on Ray’s face made his eyes go wide.

“Ray, I - ” he began, and he sounded wrecked, desperate.

“Yeah, me too,” Ray told him.

“Oh god,” Fraser said and let his eyes close. Then he was pounding into Ray, all that strength unleashed, trusting Ray could take it. And he could, he could take it, he wanted all of it, all of Fraser losing control and giving him the fucking of a lifetime. Ray just held on, loose and pliant in Fraser’s arms, riding the waves of sensation. He couldn’t come again, not exactly, but it was so intense it was almost like orgasm without the crest, like it could go on forever, for as long as Fraser could hold out.

Fraser was breathing hard, lost in it, mouth soft and eyes half closed, just fucking Ray and fucking him and fucking him until he grunted and gave one last, hard thrust of his hips. Then he was shaking and coming with that same low, unguarded groan as last night that made Ray’s heart ache with the vulnerability of it.

 

*

 

They lay there for a long time afterwards, afternoon sun slanting through the curtains. It was like Fraser couldn’t stop touching him, and Ray arched into every caress, put his hands everywhere on Fraser’s body in return, listening for all the soft sounds he made and wanting to remember all of them.

“So we’re gonna keep on doing this, huh?” Ray murmured into Fraser’s shoulder, some immeasurable time later.

He could feel the reverberations of the deep, sated, “Mm,” that was Fraser’s response. Fraser pulled him closer, held him tighter.

“Okay,” Ray said.

 

*

 

“Did I do this?” Fraser asked later, thumb tracing the mark on Ray’s neck.

Ray snorted. “No Frase, between eight o’clock this morning and just now I found someone else to give me a hickey…hey, yuk!” he broke off as Fraser licked his nose.

 

Fraser giggled and did it again.

 

“Stop it - yeah, obviously you did that,” he conceded when Fraser blew a raspberry into his neck.

“It didn’t show over your collar, did it?”

“Yeah, course it did.”

“I’m sorry, Ray, I didn’t realise,” Fraser said softly, sounding like he really was sorry.

“S’okay. I didn’t mind,” Ray whispered back. Then he added, “Just, when we’re working on this thing, and I’m meant to be a serious international policing expert or something…”

“I won’t do it again.”

“No, you can do it again, I like it, just - not where people can see it, ok?”

 

Fraser rolled on top of him and kissed him deep, deep, deep. Fraser maybe had a thing going on with marking him, Ray thought.

 

*

 

Fraser had his hand on Ray’s ass, fingertips just inside his cleft and thigh perfect between Ray’s legs for him to thrust against, when he sighed, “We should probably go back downstairs, you know.”

To Ray he sounded a lot like a man who was looking for an excuse _not_ to go back downstairs, but Fraser was making it difficult to think straight and come up with one.

 

“Uh, will anyone notice if we just stay here?” he managed.

“They might,” Fraser admitted reluctantly.

“Do you care?”

Fraser paused before he replied, “Well, I care inasmuch as people might talk, and it could turn into a reason for this international task force not to happen. Other than that, I can’t say that I do, no.”

 

Ray had to rub his renewed erection blissfully against the warm muscle of Fraser’s thigh before he could answer. Then he craned his head to see the clock on the nightstand.

 

“What time’s the last coffee break?” he asked.

“4 o’clock.” Of course Fraser knew the conference programme off by heart.

“So look, everyone’s just gonna think we’re in a different - uh - what do they call ‘em - ”

“Parallel session?”

“Yeah, parallel session, so it’s only gonna be more obvious if we go down now, but if we leave it till 4 o’clock, show up for coffee, get some of those pastry things they bring out…” he let the thought hang there.

“What time is it now?” Fraser’s hand moved down his thigh and back up to his ass, learning the feel of his skin.

“Just after 3,” Ray punctuated his statement with another slow, delicious thrust against Fraser’s leg. He could feel Fraser’s cock hardening against his belly, and reached between them to give it a friendly squeeze. Well, maybe this was more than friendly, really, but then he’d always been more than just friends with Fraser if he was honest about it. “What do you say, Frase?”

Fraser said, “I think you’re a genius, and - mm, yes, just like that - we always did work well together, Ray.”

“Yeah, we do a whole lot of things well together, you and me,” Ray agreed, and then Fraser’s tongue was in his mouth, so he figured the rest of the discussing they’d come upstairs for could probably wait.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, I did it, resolution, THE END.


End file.
